Kestrel Village
by Carer Threads
Summary: Don't you wish there was a Harvest Moon game that was a little more... realistic? All of the characters are original and belong to me.
1. Enter the Twins

"You sure they're following us?"

For the fourth time in that last hour, the chocolate-haired young man whipped his head around to take a look out the rear window of the rusty, dusty pick-up truck. The absence of a lumbering moving van close behind gnawed in the recesses of his fretful mind.

Eli turned his attention back to his sister's attentive driving. Years of survival in the distant city had honed the twins' skills in maneuvering vehicles in an expert manner. Injuries had more than once been avoided by a fraction of an inch. Although Aly had never driven a pick-up truck before, she had volunteered to drive to the twins' new home for whatever reason Eli could not figure out.

It was a decision she came to regret rather quickly.

"The road… is so… bumpy!" Aly gritted her teeth in annoyance when another bump in the dirt road popped up like that unwanted cockroach scuttling across the kitchen floor. The little pick-up truck lurched upwards, sideways, sometimes even backwards while the two bounced around inside. The impact was only slightly cushioned by fading charcoal grey car seats and the seatbelts wrapped around their bodies accordingly per regular safety procedures.

"That's why-!" Eli was interrupted in his scolding when his skull banged against the scratched up window. Ruefully wincing at the sharp pain, the man nonetheless managed to say with an edge of impatience, "Slow down!"

"But we're almost there! Look, can't you see the village?" Aly perked up immediately.

The honey-colored blonde pointed excitedly with her left hand at the dwellings coming up to the left of the moving vehicle. It was a charming sight of various homes and cottages, painted in cheery spring colors, surrounded by meandering snake-like paths of hard dirt. Every now and then these paths were bordered by walls of crumbling brick and packed stones, hedges of seasonal flowers, and budding grass. Eli caught a glimpse of the village square and tiny figures of townspeople before the scene whirled by his eyes. It was all just a tantalizing taste of Kestrel Village.

"Then you'd better slow down. We'll be at the farm in no time… I'd better tell the moving guys too," he advised.

The man brought out his cell phone and flipped it open, only to discover there was one bar left for battery and reception was not so good out here. Punching down the numbers on the pad (he messed up twice from the stupid bumps), he then pressed the phone to his ear.

"Hello? Yeah, we're just about there so you should start… What? Hello?" Eli brought the phone away from his ear and wrinkled his brow. "The reception is pretty bad here," he sighed dejectedly, snapping shut his phone and putting it away back into the pocket of his jeans. "What if they get lost?"

"Eli, don't worry about it! It was just one straight road from, like, twenty minutes ago! You can't be dumb enough to get lost if it's just one straight line!" Aly laughed in a care-free manner and shook her head at her worrywart of a brother.

The pick-up truck moved onwards and came up on the outskirts of the village, where the farm and their land were supposed to be. Aly slowed the vehicle on a patch of dirt and came to a full stop, parked, and then scrambled out of the car first. Eli followed immediately after in haste.

They could not believe their eyes at the heart-dropping scene.

The plot of land lay before them desolately. The area was flat and devoid of any sign of life, plant and animal, and there was not a sound to be heard. What used to produce rows upon rows of produce was now filled with packed, dried up dirt. The wooden fences bordering the land groaned in their rotten state, the barns and coops stared blankly back at the dismayed duo, and the house they were to live in sagged in loneliness.

The only cheerful aspect was the warm spring weather, the white puffy clouds in the clear blue sky, and the shining sun upon them. However, that all seemed to amplify the grey down where they were.

"I… didn't think it was this bad," Aly commented hesitantly. "It looks even worse than it did in the pictures and stuff in the newspaper."

She looked towards her brother with her dark brown eyes. "But we're here, so we might as well make the best of it, right?"

"Right, I… Yeah, this doesn't look so bad after all!" Eli faked an optimistic laugh for his sister's sake but could not hide how white his facial tone was and the alarm in his blue eyes. Sure, they had bought land nobody wanted, miles away from civilization and probably any sort of advanced technology, and they were to make a living on a farm when they had absolutely no idea how to farm. Spur of the moment decision! Oh for the love of god, what were they thinking when they picked up the phone to call?

Before Eli could legitimately analyze how doomed they were, his cell phone rang. Pushing his thoughts of doom aside, he picked up. "Hello?"

The words of the moving men snapped him back to attention and he listened intently.

"Oh, that's… But… You can't make it through?" He protested and ran a hand through his short brown hair. "I see. Yeah, we'll head back." Finishing the brief conversation abruptly, Eli announced to the curious Aly, "They can't go any further than five minutes from here. The moving van doesn't fit on the path.

We'll have to go back and make a few trips."

Aly pouted ridiculously at the news with her hands on her hips. Eli cracked a smile at her way to cheer him up, but didn't really feel any better.

"I'll go with the truck. We have a bit of stuff already, so see how the house looks on the inside," said Eli. He turned on his heel and began to unload the few bags of luggage and miscellaneous items they had brought with them from the back.

Meanwhile, Aly mock saluted her brother and then bee-lined for their new home. It was a small house, with two dusty windows and a plain wooden door. Nothing stood out at all to her. But she was sure to change that, the blonde reasoned, with a bit of paint.

She had expected the door to be locked, but to her surprise, the door swung open with the twist of the doorknob and an easy push. Country people didn't lock their doors? Why? She did not ponder the question for long after the flick of the light switch on the wall to her left.

After the buzz of electricity flowed through the light bulbs, the sight that greeted her inside was certainly not as depressing. In front of her, up against the wall, was a bed frame made for a queen sized bed. It looked sturdy enough, the girl mused, but there was no way she was going to sleep with Eli in the same bed. In the middle of the single room was the dining table. But it was so low to the ground! And there were no chairs! Were they going to have to sit on the floor to eat? At least the wooden floor seemed clean enough to sit on. Beyond this simple dining table was the tiny kitchen with its tiny kitchen cabinets, devoid of any cooking utensils. Aly walked up to the sink and cautiously turned the tab. After a protesting squeak, water gushed out. She turned the water off and grinned in relief in her confirmation. Country people did have water, at least, even if they didn't have locks on their doors!

"Eli!" Aly triumphantly called out in jubilation to her beloved brother. "They have water!"

"What'd you expect?" He called back in the distance in a bit of disbelief. "Mud?"

Sticking her tongue out to him in response, Aly burst into the bathroom. Yes! They had a working shower too! And the toilet flushed! The water gurgled down the toilet bowl to her delight.

"We have a toilet! It actually flushes!" The woman hollered out in new-found joy.

"Please shut up before someone hears you!" Eli's voice was much closer now. He popped his head in the doorway and frowned. "God, Aly, it's not like we're living with cavemen," he grunted, unloading the last of the luggage on hand outside next to the door. He wrinkled his nose at the dust that Aly had obviously not noticed. "We'll have to clean a bit before we move stuff in. "

The man looked up at the lack of response. "What is it?"

"There're no plugs," Aly answered in a shocked voice, searching frantically around the walls of the house with her increasingly desperate eyes. She shot off with a list of technology unavailable to them, her voice growing louder and louder.

"No cell phones. No laptops…! No television!" She made a tearful gasp and looked at Eli with a horrified gaze, realizing their apparent doom.

"No more microwave," she whispered.


	2. King of the Mine

Eli gaped back at her, aghast. And then he chortled at her overdramatic expression.

"It won't be so bad. We have a kitchen, so we don't need a microwave, and besides, you know I'm not a bad cook. We have a mailbox for communicating to the outside world, anyhow. And if it comes down to it, we'll get a radio or something so we're not cut off completely from news. If we're lucky, someone will have a television somewhere."

Then he wagged a finger at her in jest, clearly enjoying Aly's deprivation of technology.

"No more 'Desperate Manwives' for you!"

The blond brought a hand to her heart and scoffed, "'Desperate Manwives' is the kind of show millions of girls such as myself live on. A boy like you wouldn't understand." She was lightly thrown a duster in retaliation, and Aly was too late to throw it back after Eli ducked smartly away and out the door in a flash to retrieve their belongings in the moving van.

At the first sweep of dusting, the girl squinted her eyes and coughed when the little particles floated in the fresh spring air. And the more she dusted, the more dust floated around the house and slowly towards the door. "Oh, come on! You're like those little old ladies on the freeway! Get a move on!" urged Aly, waving out her unwanted guests. Continuing in her little chore, she grumbled, "Guy who lived here must've been a slob!"

In time, Aly finally chased all the dust out of the premises and Eli came back with the truck loaded high and the moving men in tow. The four of them labored in moving furniture around carefully, taking out the old bed and putting in a new mattress, setting up cabinets and drawers and the like. Aly pretended to help with the lifting at first, but then mostly she gave encouragement while waving in whatever general direction the three men were going in with whatever heavy furniture piece they were lugging around. She obliged with much lighter belongings like putting clothes and books in their proper places. Slowly but surely, the little empty house began to look more like someone was really going to live there again. Curious villagers paused in front of the run-down farm to view the spectacle from time to time, one villager in particular.

"Thanks a bunch, guys," the young male exhaled in relief much later in the day. The two siblings looked around the house in exhausted satisfaction one last time before moving out of the house to say goodbye to the moving men.

"It's no problem, sir," the men replied, one of them touching the lid of his cap obligingly. "You take care now. I can't imagine living and working on a farm, but good luck to you both!"

Eli paid the men for their services and the rent on the truck, and the man and woman waved until the truck rumbled out of sight.

Aly dropped her arm first. "I'm starving… We didn't take a single break from all that work," she pouted. "It's way past noon already."

Eli rubbed a hand against his forehead and did his best to ignore the aches in the lower regions of his back. "We were too busy to notice, I guess. Oof, I'm gonna feel this tomorrow for sure. I'm too tired to cook. Let's go buy something, yeah?"

"But it's New Year's. Is anything open?"

"Dunno. Let's take a look around the village and see what we get."

"I see you're all moved in," interrupted a young man pleasantly. At the sound of this new voice and the soft crunch of hard dirt, the new farmers turned on the spot.

He was clad in business attire, dress shirt and dress pants and striped tie and all, freshly ironed and pressed. His light orange hair ruffled a bit in the incoming breeze and only added to the youth of his figure. With a smile etched onto his face, the mystery man said, "I hope I'm not intruding?"

"Er, no, not at all," exclaimed Eli. What a polite guy. "But who are you?"

"Ah, forgive me. I am the mayor of Kestrel Village. Just call me Ben. Everyone here does," answered the young mayor. In fact, he looked suspiciously younger than the twins, but Eli was too polite to inquire about his age this early into the conversation. Aly piped up, "If you don't mind, how old are you?"

Ben chuckled easily at her question and at Eli's reaction. "No, no, it's quite all right. I turned eighteen this past autumn. Yes, I know, I'm quite young, but I manage."

"Sorry, Ben. I'm Eli and the loudmouth is Aly. Good to meet you," said the older brother, extending a hand in greeting and ignoring Aly's playful punch to his shoulder. Ben obliged, and Eli was surprised at the mayor's iron grip.

"Reason why I'm here," continued Ben, while shaking Eli's hand, "is because I need to ask something of you.

You are farmers, correct?"

Eli tried to get out Ben's grip and the continual handshaking at this point, but it was impossible.

"Um…"

"Oh my, are you _not_ farmers?" Ben said all this in his mildly pleasant tone and that gentle smile. "Well, well, well, that brings you into quite a lot of trouble, doesn't it?"

Eli struggled to get out of the vice grip as politely as he could. He was starting to lose the feeling in his fingers.

"You see, I love this whole village. Not too many like it left in the area. Not only that, I love the people. They're all such adorable, hardworking _cavemen_," Ben emphasized, not noticing Aly had covered her mouth in mute embarrassment. "I'd hate to see something happen to them, don't you think?"

Not waiting for an answer, Ben went on, "I did not expect people like you two, from the city, to inquire about the farm, but it is even more of a surprise you are not farmers. That's such a shame, really. You'll have lots to learn.

You know the last man who lived here? Will. Everyone loved Will. He was with us since I was a very small child. He helped make Kestrel Village thrive. But as you can see, Kestrel Village is not what it once was, and I would love it if it became what I know it has the potential for.

Why is Will not here anymore? Oh, he died." Ben gave a warm chuckle. It sounded ominous to the twins.

"But that was then, and this is now." Ben never stopped smiling in that secretly angelic way.

I do expect you two will stay here and make the farm work. _Won't you?_

_**WON'T YOU?**_"

Were they making a pact with the devil?

"YES!" Eli and Aly unintentionally screamed out.

"Wonderful." Eli was saved at last.

"I'll see you two later. I'll drop off the deeds to the house and land in your mailbox. Look forward to it." And with his mission accomplished, Ben sauntered off and towards the village, humming a soft, haunting tune with his hands in his pockets.

The two siblings looked at each other in fear.

"He scared the living crap out of me," Eli whimpered, nursing his numb, throbbing hand.

"How'd he know I said 'cavemen'? I didn't say it that loud, I swear. Maybe he was spying on us?" Aly panicked.

"Don't say it like that! Don't! That makes him even scarier!"

Luckily, the hand was sore but otherwise not injured in any way, shape, or form. Aly checked twice before she was satisfied. "Come on, let's go get something to eat. It'll make you feel better," she encouraged, trying to lighten the mood.

"It'll make my stomach feel better, but definitely not my hand," retorted Eli. "I thought it was gonna turn blue at any second." What were the other villagers like?

The duo walked easily on the dirt path and was led into the quaint village. As they had thought, most of the shops were closed for the holiday. There were also very few passerby. They did pass a tiny poultry shop, the blacksmith's, an animal ranch, and a general store, among other buildings. There were no restaurants or cafes to be found in Kestrel Village, they discovered, but there was the village inn. And mercifully, by the time the two had found it, tucked away towards the northeastern part of the area, it was open.

"Oh thank god! Food!" Aly gave the doors a hefty push.

Despite outer appearances, it was quite a large inn on the inside. Lunch hour was over. There were a few stragglers here and there amongst the spread out tables of worn oak and pine, and lingering scents of their downed meals hovered in the thick air.

"Oh, newcomers! Here for a late lunch?" Mitch called out, grinning his bearish-like grin. "Step on up to the bar! What can I get for ya?" His grizzly dark blonde beard was twisted into a single scruffy braid, and his moustache was curled at just the right angle.

"Um, what do you have?" The two strode up to the bar and took their places at the stools, grateful that the next villager they were meeting was much more normal. Mitch bent both of his hairy, hairy arms and put his hands on his broad waist in thought, reciting the day's menu.

"Day's special is Asparagus and Potato Omelette with Cheese. If ya want somethin' else, there's always Mixed Salad, Spring Rolls, Vegetable Stir Fry, Stew… And if you don't want those, as long as the ingredients are in season, I can whip somethin' up for you. As for drinks, I've got Strawberry Juice or Water. And if you have room for dessert, I'll tell you that menu as soon as I remember it. So what'd you like?"

"Oh, oh, oh! The omelette! And make it super huge!" Aly exclaimed in glee. "And strawberry juice for two! We're starving!"

"I like your attitude, missy!" Mitch gave out a rough, burly laugh. "Not too many young maidens have a big appetite nowadays. And what can I get for you, lad?"

"I'll get the stew. We've been busy moving in for half the day, so we are pretty hungry," Eli laughed at Aly's enthusiasm.

"Alrighty, then! Omelette and Stew it is! Hm…" Mitch stroked his beard for a moment. "Oh! You mean you're those people who moved into the farm? Job well done!"

The siblings blinked in surprise. "How'd you know we were the ones moving in?"

"Eh, it's not a big village, this is. Word gets around fast. Ben didn't scare you lot too much, did he now?"

Eli paled at the fresh memory. "He was… intimidating."

"Nah, don't it let get to ya." Mitch clapped a heartening, albeit large, hand on Eli's shoulder, and if he hadn't been sitting, his knees would have buckled at the sheer weight. "Lad means well, through and through. Just got a funny of showin' it."

"Now, enough yappin', I'll get your lunches out in a jiff. Roxy, can ya get 'em their juices, please an' thank ya," the large man called out, heading to the kitchen through the swinging back door. With that, the twins took a proper look around the first floor of the inn to see who else was here.

Over in the corner sat a somewhat overweight young man in need of a haircut. His messy ebony hair hung down over his eyes, and his bangs touched the top rim of his thick glasses drooping down upon his thick greasy nose. On his black t-shirt was clumsily drawn what looked like a white turnip, leaves and all, and his dark navy jeans needed a trip to the laundry bin. Clutched in his hands was a 3ES, the latest model (not a single scratch or stain!), and the man was mumbling to no one but himself, "Come on, come on, come on..!"

A few tables over was a much older man in his early thirties, and he looked even worse for wear. His beady black eyes scrutinized his pile of scratched playing cards in a game of solitaire. His brown, gnarled hands, his pepper-grey hair, that long nose, those yellow teeth! Chancing a sneak over at the bar, he dug quickly into his pants, took out a cigarette and a lighter, and flicked the lighter on. He stuffed the tip of the cigarette into his mouth and lit the other end. A swirl of smoke began to rise.

"ED! Put it out! Out!"

The twins jumped at the yell, and then they jumped once again when their strawberry juice was slammed onto the bar with frightening force. Roxy paid no attention to the newcomers' reactions and stomped over to where Ed was sitting. Like Mitch, she wore a similar cook outfit and gripped a very sharp knife in her left hand.

"Ed! How many times do I have to tell you? Out with it or go outside!" Her dark red glasses gleamed in fury and she waved the knife point threateningly under Ed's nostrils.

"But! Roxy! It's not like I'm going to light the place on fire! It's just one," whined Ed, his dark eyes looking straight at that knife.

"It's not that, it's the SMELL! THE SMELL! People can't eat here if they're choking to death on YOUR smoke! I can smell it a mile away," she tossed her short, dark red hair. "Put it out or go out or else I'll cut you!" She seemed very keen on carrying the threat out.

"Alright, alright! Don't get your little panties in a bunch!" Roxy chased Ed out the door, yelling out obscenities and further threats, while inside, Nicholas screamed out, "OH GOD YES! I DID IT!"

He abruptly leapt onto his sneakers, laid his 3ES carefully onto the table, and began dancing, shaking his butt to the rhythm. "I got to the end of the mine! End of the mine!" He threw his hands up in the air in jubilation. "Nine hundred ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine floors! Two hundred and eighty-six hours of GRINDING!" He clenched his fists and began to swing his hips in gusto.

"I am the champion! I am the champion! The KING of the _MINE_!"

"Nick, shut yer trap!"


	3. So Evil

It was on the second day of Spring when the farming duo began their journey into the hell of physical labor.

Actually, it was Eli's journey alone.

The young man loosened his grip on the old yet sturdy sickle and wiped a bead of sweat from his burning forehead. The lower part of his back ached, his palm prickled from the friction between his skin and the wooden handle of the farming tool, and his fingers wouldn't be able to take the task of holding the sickle much longer if Eli kept this up. However, after scanning his work of killing off the numerous weeds on the farmland, it looked as though he hadn't made much progress since eight o'clock this very morning. In fact, planted stubbornly there in the soil, the gentle breeze blowing by made the weeds wave mockingly at the inexperienced Eli. He felt as though he was being taunted by them.

Puffing out a brief sigh, Eli pulled at his sticky, light grey t-shirt and tossed it onto the grass away from the field, revealing a stark white tank top underneath. By now, the man appreciated the breeze much more, and he ruffled his hair for a moment before setting himself back to the task. The first few times, Eli had handled the sickle awkwardly enough so that it took several tries to cut down a weed and pull it out. After the first hour passed by, he became a bit more comfortable with the tool. It had a dull blade, and was beginning to rust just along the edge, but there was nothing he could do to fix it up without the proper materials. He wondered how old it was. With each swift awkward cut followed by pulling out the roots, Eli's mind shifted focus. How prosperous had the previous owner been? What had "Will" been like? Had he started like Eli and his sister, venturing recklessly headfirst into the unknown, or did he know what he was doing from the start?

Cut, pull, and throw it amongst its fellow weed corpses. Cut, pull, throw. Cut, pull, throw. Eli had a bit of a process going and didn't notice the first bark of a dog that ventured towards him. The domesticated animal waited patiently for another moment before barking once more, louder than the first. It wagged its shaggy tail in a friendly manner and licked its nose before Eli finally took notice of it.

Eli set down the sickle carefully onto the soil and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. Where had the dog come from? He walked a little cautiously towards it and saw it had a bright red collar around its neck, attached to a leash with the handle dragging carelessly on the ground. Perhaps it was lost?

"Hey…" Eli ducked for a second to see if there was a tag with its name on it. It was a simple tag in a golden color, and stamped upon its surface was the name…

"Sandy! Come," called out a soft, female voice.

She clapped her hands twice, but Sandy already obeyed her at the sound of his name. He abruptly turned and ran over towards his owner, panting in approval when she bent down and stroked his soft fur. Tucking a strand of short dark brown hair behind her ear, the mystery woman, in a white flowing shirt and long brown skirt, approached Eli eagerly with a small wrapped package in her arms.

"Are you the new owner of the farm?"

"Yeah… Actually, one of the owners. I'm Eli. My sister Aly is… uh, out right now," he replied sheepishly. There was something about the woman's speech that was different than Eli was normally used to hearing, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what the difference was.

Her shy smile widened a little as her brown eyes showed warmth. "My name is Sophie. This is a housewarming gift for the both of you. I heard you moved in yesterday, so I made a little something." Her speech was slightly altered, with a pause every few words, the pronunciation a bit slow at times.

Sophie handed over the package, which Eli accepted with gratitude and surprise. A housewarming gift? From a pretty stranger? This was something totally new.

"Thanks… Thanks so much, Sophie," Eli grinned. "We appreciate it."

"No, no, the pleasure is all mine. Think of it as a welcome to the village. Well, I won't keep you from your work. I'll see you and Aly around sometime," Sophie smiled softly. She leisurely walked away from Eli with Sandy in tow and gave one last wave of goodbye before disappearing out of sight.

"Huh. Wonder what it could be?" Eli mused to himself. He turned the package over once before setting it down next to his abandoned t-shirt. He'd open it later, Eli supposed, but what was taking Aly so long?

"You say that again!"

"I told you," said the little girl loftily. "You must be quite a retard to get lost from the single forest path there is." Her sharp golden orbs looked up haughtily at the unfortunately lost blonde carrying a large wicker basket. "I mean, seriously. If I hadn't pointed out the edge of that cliff, you would've been dead by now, tragically from your own hapless stupidity," Matilda reasoned. She tossed her long, lavender hair. "You only have me to thank. It's impolite to _not_ thank your savior, you know."

Aly grinded her jaw at this little kid. What was she, ten? With that stupid little bow in her hair and her arms crossed calmly in front of her in that stupid girly dress, every second Aly glared at her in defiance made no difference.

"Fine," Matilda said. "So be it. I'll let you wander around until you give up trying to find the way out, because unlike me, you don't know anything about the woods at all. You might as well let yourself become fresh meat for the bears. I certainly wouldn't miss you."

"For your information, little girl," Aly huffed, "It's my first time. Gimme a break! And I was _not_ going to fall to my death. I already knew it was a cliff."

"You were running after butterflies in a field of flowers."

Aly just shut up.

"Don't worry," Matilda smiled thinly. "Your secret is safe with me."

The woman mumbled incoherently.

"What was that?" Matilda piped up in a voice as innocent as poisoned honey. "I didn't quite hear you. You'll have to speak up like a big girl!"

"… Thank… You," Aly muttered, her face pointed to the ground to avoid any eye contact with this evil little girl.

Matilda reached up on her tiptoes and patted Aly's shoulder in sympathy.

"There, there. Now I'll lead you out." With that, Matilda cheerfully led the way and Aly complied. Matilda struck up a one-sided conversation with the new farmer.

"You know, I heard there were two farmers who moved in yesterday, and Mama wanted me to come by and bring a present, but I didn't want to. Oh, those are safe to pick… I mean, really, I think learning about mechanisms of xylem embolism repair in seed plants and Bayesian semi-parametric methods from bio stats is a lot more interesting than meeting a new neighbor, don't you think? You'll want to avoid those; the stems will give you an itchy rash for a week. Mama doesn't really approve of my wealth of learning, but I think that knowledge from such limited resources like her prayer book just isn't practical!"

'_I hate you, little girl_,' Aly thought bitterly. She stuffed a few white mushrooms in her wicker basket and kept up with Matilda at a steady pace.

"What took you so long?"

He backed off from further concerned inquiry upon seeing the impudent anger etched on Aly's face.

"Go shower! You stink!" She barked at him, dumping some of the contents of her wicker basket in the sink to wash in preparation for lunch. A few mushrooms and wild assorted berries tumbled to the floor.

"Okay. I won't ask," Eli avoided her like the plague and loped off to the bathroom.

With each chop of the kitchen knife, Aly stewed in her own humiliation.

'_How could a kid like her possibly exist?_' She dumped the mushrooms in the beaten egg yolks and then sloppily dropped the whole thing into the waiting frying pan. In a sour mood, Aly found a cloth and mopped up the egg yolks that had not made it to the pan vigorously.

The blonde was still in a sour mood when lunch was served.

"Oh, come on! At least you really didn't get lost!" Eli laughed over mouthfuls of mushroom and ham omelet. "What if you got attacked by those butterflies instead?"

Aly dropped her first forkful of omelet onto her plate and covered her ears tight. "Don't make me think about it! She's the most evil little person ever! "

Her brother scoffed at this juvenile declaration, but chose not to retaliate. He swiped the remaining omelet from the girl's plate. "If you're not gonna eat your share, then I'll have it!"

"Go ahead, I'll just have something else." Aly stood up from the table and took the necessary steps to make herself a cup of instant noodles (shrimp flavor). "Seriously, I thought it'd be fun to go picking mushrooms and berries and stuff, but she ruined everything. So go and pig out," she called from the little kitchen while Eli wolfed down the rest of the omelet with gusto.

After the brief lunch, the twins set out into the field after putting whatever was left in the wicker basket into the shipping bin. Since there was only one sickle to share between them, Eli chose to pull out the roots while Aly awkwardly cut the weeds down. The task itself was mundane, but the two worked diligently as the sun slowly moved across the clear cerulean sky.

The remaining survivors clung to the soil desperately. Eli was having a hard time with one in particular. Again and again, he pulled upwards with all his might until his palm burned, but it wouldn't budge.

"Oh, lemme try!" Aly rolled up her sleeves, dug her heels into the soil, and yanked the weed upwards with surprising ease. The momentum carried over and the girl tumbled into the soil bottom first.

"Ha! I got it!" She held up the defeated roots triumphantly in the still air and looked over at Eli who had his hands on hips, bent over and panting.

"Aly… I'm gonna take a break," Eli admitted, wiping his brow. "You mind finishing up?"

Enthusiastic to defeat the rest of the weeds, she called out, "Sure! I'll beat 'em all!" Aly then made a ridiculous pose with her sickle in hand and eyed her next unfortunate opponent like a cat ready to pounce on a cornered mouse.

The last four weeds inevitably bowed to their demise.

Just as the sun was beginning to set, Aly carefully set the sickle back into the tool box for another day and snapped the lid shut. She then bolted off to the bathroom.

"Oh my god, I gotta pee..!" She muttered to herself and frantically pulled open the bathroom door.

His unconscious form, crouched on the toilet, flooded Aly's vision. Eli did not respond to her terrified shriek.

((What's worse, a genius girl or a devil mayor? 8D ))


	4. Rainy

"Ma… Matilda!"

The man with jet-black hair shivered in the unrelenting spring rain. His shabby raincoat did little to protect him from the raindrops whizzing down on his body like transparent bullets from the sky. Squinting his eyes to get a better view of the little girl just ahead, Ed called out to her once more in between hollow, wheezing pants.

"Matilda, come back! Your mama's gonna kill me if she finds out you're in _there_," Ed whined.

But to no avail. The lavender-haired girl turned back to the leather-skinned man with a leering smirk and her hand resting upon the thick oak door.

"Don't tell her then, stupid," she answered loftily. Ed groaned at the cheeky handful he was burdened to look after deep down in the goodness of his heart. Like a loyal mutt, he followed. Much to his chagrin, it was useless to argue with someone who had countless points above his own IQ.

A hardy push was all that was needed to persuade the door to swing open with a groaning protest. Once Ed reluctantly entered after the little girl and shut the door with an icy hand, it muffled out much of the static noise caused by the continuous pounding rain. Swirls of grey dust nonchalantly floated in the old library's atmosphere, oblivious to the two's presence. The man wrinkled his nose at the smell of old yellowed paper as he shuffled after the flouncing genius. Each step was followed by a tiny 'creak', the floorboards awake from the visitors' activities. It had been a while since the last time Matilda came here.

"How old do you think this place is? It's, uh, safe to be here, right? Since Ben sorta fixed it up a couple weeks back," Ed commented in a bit of awe. "Never knew the ol' church had a library behind its back door." The girl found an agreeable spot to sit on the floor and plucked out a book with a cover so covered with dust that you couldn't tell what color the cover originally was.

Matilda silently rolled her eyes, replying with, "It's safe enough… Ben doesn't know how old it is for sure, but it's definitely part of Kestrel's history or something. That's why he didn't want to have it sitting here, crumbling away."

"And why he doesn't want anyone inside here either, messing with the history," pointedly coughed Ed in a low voice.

"I'm always careful! And I didn't ask you to follow me around either."

"You think I'd just let a little kid wander around in an old building by herself? What if you get hurt?"

"I am not a little kid."

"You're ten."

Ed shook out drops of precipitation in exasperation. "What do I have to do? Drag you out of here myself?" He briefly imagined Matilda having a tantrum. An impossible reality.

"You could always kidnap me and put me into your child predator van. You look the part already," Matilda coolly retaliated. She didn't even look up from the book she was now carefully immersed in. Ed stamped his foot impatiently after flushing slightly at her sharp words.

"Don't say things like that!"

"Don't follow me around then."

"Oh my god, why are you so-!" The abrupt stop in his speech was a cue for Matilda to glance upwards. His mouth was agape, his eyes were wide with terror, and he was as white as a sheet, staring at a spot just next to her. With a quick bird-like movement, she turned her head and gasped sharply.

A young boy about Matilda's age sat cross-legged beside her, his eyes riveted at the page in the book in Matilda's hands. He had a clean cut look about him, with his newsboy cap perched at just the right angle on his slightly tousled hair, his collared shirt crisp, and his narrow knickers ending just past his knees to reveal his socks. If it wasn't for the fact that his entire figure was pearly white, he would have looked like quite the respectable young man to read an old book with.

A girly scream pierced the ancient library's atmosphere and Ed hustled out the back door and into the torrent of rain like he was being hunted down by a prostitute he owed his singles to. At the noise, the boy looked up and realized what had happened.

"Aw, applesauce!" Horrified that he was seen, he "scooted away" from Matilda with an inch between the floorboards and his feet, unable to get rid of the persistent floating he was doomed with for eternity.

At such a strange declaration, the girl stared at him so intently that the ghost boy fidgeted uncomfortably for a moment before the book's spine sailed through his nose. It landed solidly on the floor a few feet away from the two of them. "Ah, ten points since it went through your head," the girl piped up before scurrying away to hide behind a bookshelf.

The boy cried out with wide eyes in disbelief. "Are you goofy? What'd you do that for? It went straight through my beezer!" He rubbed the exact spot on his nose with a ghostly hand, although he was unable to feel anything. "Don't lam off now! I didn't mean to scare you, honest," he pleaded, floating in the direction where Matilda had run off. "Just don't throw any more of those books at my noodle," he added.

The girl tentatively peeked around the corner where the ghost was, staring at him suspiciously with her golden eyes. "Are you r-really a ghost?" Only her head was visible behind the shelves of old fiction novels.

The boy looked down at himself and shrugged his shoulders. "Ab-so-lute-ly," he confirmed. "But don't you razz me just 'cause I'm not a full-grown fella." He puffed out his small chest to show his apparent young manliness. Matilda finally stepped out from where she was partially hiding. A quizzical look adorned her otherwise usually scornful face.

"Don't _what_?" Upon closer examination, he most certainly was not wearing clothes from anywhere near this time. "Um, who are you?"She tilted her head to the right in curiosity. "What year are you from?"

He blinked in surprise at her inquiries, but was happy to know something the girl didn't.

"Travis," he grinned. "1926. That's when I got chilled off."

00000

A frantic banging thundered throughout the house. Upstairs, oblivious to the panicked pounding upon the front door, Ben breathed easily in his unforeseen nap upon his work desk. His head rested upon his limp arms, where countless documents were strewn across his desk, stacked neatly otherwise in organized folders marked with black ink. As an eighteen-year-old mayor, he was quite a busy man. Town meetings needed to be arranged, construction needed to be discussed, monetary budgets to be balanced, documents to be reviewed and edited and reviewed again until it was all just right… At last, the pounding upon his door slowly but surely awoke Ben from his unprecedented slumber. He frowned and slowly sat up, somewhat confused as to why he was still at his desk, before realizing that he must have fallen asleep. With a barely audible groan, he rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, one side of which was sticking upwards due to the odd position he was sleeping in. Looking down upon himself, Ben had also spilled cold coffee onto his light blue work shirt somewhere late last night and soaked a few important papers with the caffeinated drink. How utterly delightful. As a vague thought of what had woke him up floated through his still hazy mind, he was finally aware of the sound of someone rapidly knocking.

He forced himself up and out of his chair, stumbled out of his office, and trudged down the stairs to the front door, loosening a button or two in his shirt as he went. He was much too tired at this point to go and quickly make himself look presentable. Yanking open the entrance, the young man was startled to find Ed soaked to the bone and absolutely panicked.

"Ben! You gotta help me! I told Matilda not to go to the back of the church, but she did, and there was a ghost there, 'bout a bit bigger than her, and I don't wanna go back there by myself in case it haunts me or something, but I think you'd be able to handle it and get Matilda out for me. I told her to stay out of there, but she wouldn't listen, and now this happens and…! You gotta help me get her!" The older man desperately begged the young mayor with his eyes darting left and right, as if the ghost had followed him on his way here.

Ben was just not ready to deal with this madman right now.

"Please stop eating your candy," he answered quietly with a tired sigh, none too gently shutting the door in Ed's face.

00000

A solitary figure stood solemnly before the spring and gripped the umbrella resolutely. Despite the oncoming rain, the woman did not seem the least bothered that she was not appropriately dressed for the weather in a black blouse and an emerald green skirt, as if she was dressed for Sunday church service. She gazed at the water, rippling continuously from each little raindrop that splashed its surface, before kneeling down in the wet grass before the edge. Harriet carefully placed her offering of a few strawberries into the pond, watching the fruit bob in the water before slowly they sank towards the bottom.

"Oh, Harvest Goddess!" Harriet declared loudly. "I have brought you an offering of your favorite kind. Know that even if the rest of the villagers are ignorant of your presence, I, your faithful follower, have always believed in you. I ask you to forgive them. With such petty things standing in their way to acknowledge you, I will make sure of it that they start to believe in you. It is only you that they should think of and nothing else. I will make it my utmost personal mission.

I humbly wish you a happy birthday, oh Goddess."

The only response was the static noise from the rain.

"My little Matilda should be reading up on some of my pamphlets right now," Harriet mused delightfully to no one in particular. "There is proof of the Harvest Goddess. I'll see that she believes before it's too late."

00000

The sandy-colored dog whined with the handle of a leash in its jaws, scratching fretfully upon the corner of the wooden pine door. When its owner did not take notice, the faithful pet bounded across the room where Sophie was busy delicately painting a tiny wooden figurine of a squirrel. Her hands were smothered in streaks of white and light brown paint, the arms of her sweater rolled up and dots of paint scattered across her long dark brown skirt. Old newspapers covered her work table and partially covered the floor, where other figurines of woodland creatures patiently stood, waiting to be colored to life amongst a sea of curled wood shavings. Various ceramic potteries adorned the shelves and walls, crammed from one to another and from corner to corner. An empty white canvas leaned against the doorway surrounded by tin tubes of oil paint, most of them smudged on a corner from already being used.

Having been taught to trot around whatever was on the floor, the dog carefully made his way until he approached Sophie's feet. Dropping the leash from his mouth, he gave out a single attention-demanding bark and looked at his master expectantly for a reaction.

Sophie paused, glancing over at Sandy, where it picked up the leash once more and wagged its tail silently. With a soft chuckle, the artist carefully set down the wooden squirrel and her tiny paintbrush and patted her lap twice, a signal that it was alright for Sandy to bound upon her lap. And bound he did, barking once more to reconfirm that he wanted to be taken on a walk. Sophie patiently scratched the dog under his chin and breathed a sigh once she saw the streaks of water racing down her glass window.

"Not today, Sandy," she slowly stated, pronouncing each syllable with slight difficulty. "It's raining, see? Maybe tomorrow, when the rain stops." Disappointed at her answer, the dog nuzzled his master nonetheless and licked her chin, triggering a giggle from the short-haired, dark brunette. Gently pushing the dog off her lap, Sophie stood from her work table and began to make her way to the tea kettle on top of the stove.

"It's perfect weather for some hot mint tea. Wouldn't you agree?"

00000

In comfortable silence, the two cooks of Kestrel Inn dutifully peeled and diced a share of the season's incoming crops. Roxy stood rigidly over the sink, shaving off the skins of turnips and potatoes faster with her trusty kitchen knife than you could blink. Each flick of the wrist was for an intended purpose to expose some new area where vegetable skin remained. As the little pile of hers grew, she handed the peeled potatoes and turnips to Mitch, the bigger and much older man, who sliced and diced the unfortunate root vegetables with considerable power before tossing them into a gigantic stock pot of chicken broth beside him. His moustache and beard were seaweed green today, tied to make the shape of a cucumber just under his nose.

A small intake of breath and a clatter on the sink made Mitch turn around. Roxy was clutching her finger from which flowed crimson blood. It was dripping rapidly into the sink where her abandoned knife lay. The head cook swiftly stopped what he was doing and took Roxy aside, gently chastising her in his deep masculine voice.

"I told ya not to go too fast," he gruffly said, twisting the knob of the sink so that warm water flowed over the somewhat large cut on her index finger. Roxy was silent and thin-lipped. "Second time in five days now," Mitch reminded her, in which the strong redhead gave out an impatient little 'huff' in response. Readjusting her glasses with her free hand, Roxy murmured stubbornly, "I can still cut."

"No, ya ain't. Don't want ya to end up all chopped up," Mitch grumbled, fetching a small clean towel and a roll of cotton bandages. Bidding her to sit down on a stool, the man gently applied pressure with the towel to the wound until the blood stopped flowing. For a man with very large, hairy hands, he was not as intimidating as he looked. Mitch securely wrapped a strip of cotton around her finger and taped it.

"Rest for today. I'll make dinner."

With a scowl, Roxy silently complied and sulked out of the kitchen. Mitch shook his head at the girl and glanced over at the cabbages that needed to be diced for tonight's vegetable soup.

"Oh, you need some seeds? Sure, I got some," Nick yawned out, taking a break from feverishly playing his 3ES for the moment. "What do you need? I'll go get them from my room." Today his t-shirt sported a trio of triangles in a peculiar pattern, with 'TRIFORCE' emblazoned in golden letters against a black background. He laid the gaming device with utmost caution upon the round wooden table.

The blonde farmer mentally thought back to the list she had written earlier that morning. "Um, fifteen turnip packets and twenty potato packets for now. Hang on, add fifteen asparagus and fifteen cucumber packets to that too," Aly recited, proud of herself for remembering. Her umbrella stood next to the doorway to temporarily dry off.

"M'kay. Don't touch my game," Nick warned sleepily.

"What are you playing?"

"Legend of Melda: Twilight Prince." He gave an enthusiastic double thumbs up.

"Oh, Aly! How's Eli comin' along?" Mitch sidled on through the kitchen door upon hearing the blonde girl chat with the loafer Nick. Aly immediately frowned in worry.

"He'll be okay, right? I mean, thank god you were there with your herb stuff before I poisoned him for good, but… Does he really have to eat white grass powder for three whole days? Like, ew." She wrinkled her nose in disgust and shuddered.

Mitch nodded seriously. "Sad to say, 'tis the only way to flush all the toxins out for sure. Lad'll be fine after a while, but he'll have ta sleep next to the toilet and uh… 'excrete' the poison mushrooms all out." The man coughed at the emphasis. Roxy shared a similar look to the female farmer's horrified expression.

Before anything more could be said, Ed burst through the doors dripping wet from the rain and wheezing.

"M-M-Matilda's in trouble! She got captured by a ghost at the church library! I told her not to go there, but she wouldn't listen! I think it's gonna curse her or something!" Ed rambled. "I'm too scared to go myself! Mitch, Roxy! Come with me! I dunno what that thing is capable of!"

An awkward silence ensued before Nick piped up with, "Dude, _seriously_. Lay off the candy."

"You were making candy again in your room, weren't you? I thought something smelled funny upstairs," Roxy hotly accused with narrowed eyes and injured finger while Mitch simply sighed and slapped a large hand to his forehead.

"_Why_ does everybody think I'm on drugs?" Ed wailed in exasperation.

00000

Perspiration covered Eli's brow as he crawled with all his might to the toilet. _'Slowly… Slowly…!'_ His body froze in absolute fear when a certain familiar pang in his abdomen worsened. His shaking knuckles tightened and he lay there on the floor still, begging for it not to happen now. After a few seconds, the pain subsided temporarily. The brown-haired, blue-eyed young man used this opportunity to further inch his way along the floor, careful not to upset his extremely sensitive stomach lest disaster strike again. The bathroom was in sight, and the door was ajar. The toilet was there, ready for him. If he could just make it…!

'_Oh, no!'_ The pain came back, double what it was for, and this time, Eli knew he had no time to lose. Scrambling to his feet, the young farmer hastened his way to the toilet with a hand on his bottom. Three seconds. Two seconds. One second!

He embraced the toilet and groaned sadly to himself. It was too late. He crapped in his pants again.

The wooden kestrel figurine looked upon him from the shelf sympathetically with its beady eye, its wings just about to help it take flight.

11111

A/N: And so ends the introduction arc. All eleven characters of the introductory cast have been revealed.


	5. Chocolat

Sunlight serenely filtered through the blinds of the windows, painting the inside of the wooden farmhouse with a striped golden glow. Dust danced silently amongst the furniture to the occasional rhythm of a cheerful blue jay's chatter. It was disrupted now and then by the persistent snoring from a certain male farmer. With his tousled hair, Eli grunted for a second before burying himself ever so deeper underneath the cotton blanket within the lull of sleep. He and Aly had stayed up late last night trying in vain to comfort the two grown chickens freaking out from the sudden thunderstorm. The two farmers escaped largely unscathed from the old chicken coop in the end, but not without making a mental note of precaution for handling future poultry.

Speaking of the other farmer, there Aly was, gradually tiptoeing closer and closer to her older twin brother from her room. The blonde stopped for a moment and readjusted her pale blue pajama collar that was tickling the edge of her neck before continuing on. A mischievous smirk plastered her enthusiastic demeanor, but it was important she stay as quite as a cat on the evening prowl, her brother the unsuspecting prey. She wasn't very far off now to activating her mission objective.

A loud groan from an old floorboard halted the girl in her tracks. Her wide brown eyes locked onto Eli's sleeping form for any sort of undesirable reaction, but there were none. Slightly relaxing herself, Aly hastened before anything else could deter her.

"ELI!"

With a flying leap, Aly bounded towards her brother and landed right on top of him with a hard bounce, hair flying and name screaming included. This initiated a surprised grunt, and the young man snapped his blues wide as he was rudely awakened from his slumber. He quickly gave out a drawn out sigh at the sight of his sister and rubbed his eyes with a lazy hand. Aly merely laughed joyfully and kicked her legs in the air without a care in the world.

"Happy Spring Thanksgiving! Gimme chocolate!"

Eli delayed answering the combination of declaration and demand. He slowly pushed the girl off of him, enough so that he could sit up in bed and attempt to rub the sleep out of his eyes one more time. After stretching out his arms and his lower back some, he chuckled in good nature.

"If we finish early today with our chores, I'll probably have plenty of time to make cookies and hand them out," he finally answered, starting to become more and more awake as the minutes passed.

Aly messily ran a hand through her own blonde bed head hair. "We're all supposed to meet up at the inn at noon, right?" She rolled off of the young man and leapt to her feet. "Then let's hurry up and get to work then!" The girl flew off in the direction of her room before Eli could make a joke about Aly's so-called work ethic. The blonde had a point, though. The two would have to hurry if they wanted to enjoy the festivities.

In approximately half an hour, Aly was unarmed and expected mayhem at the chicken coop. The tiny building was barely large enough to hold two poultry comfortably, but for two chickens, it did its job well enough. Sifting through sticks of hay along the floor and wrinkling her nose at the scent of bird poop and feathers, Aly carefully approached the two reluctant hens squatting in their nests at the opposite wall.

"Here, chickie, chickie… Good chickies, nice chickies," the blonde quietly cooed, creeping towards the birds with an air of utmost caution. If they attacked with her beak and talon, she possessed no weapon to fight them off and no shield to defend herself with. Pitiful. She forcefully pushed the thought of showing up at the inn with scratches and a black eye out of her imagination.

Omelet and Scrambled Eggs clucked quietly at one of the new owners. Their arrival at their new home had been eventful, with a frightening thunderstorm to end the first hectic day. Ruffling their feathers, they hopped to their feet and approached, cocking their feathery heads at the human girl. She slowly bent down and petted them quickly on their heads with two fingers, her eyes scanning their empty nests.

No eggs to be gathered. Perhaps tomorrow. And with the thought of holding a freshly laid egg proven to be an impossible reality for today, the blonde stood upright again and began to take carefully measured steps out the door. The feathered creatures grew curious and followed her out to fresh dewed grass, warm sunlight, and an all-you-can-eat buffet of worms.

Now that the two were starting to get a hang for farming, Eli found that even though the twins had a lot to do in terms of farm chores, it was not actually stressful for the time being. It was probably because none of their spring crops were ready to be harvested as of yet. The man watered down the next tiny sprout with the dented watering can. With each step he took, the water inside sloshed around and echoed inside the metal tin. The rows of little frail islands of green were not neat by any means, but at least the sea of dirt was weed-free for the day. He scrunched up his nose at the smell of fresh fertilized soil and then glanced upwards to see his sister leading the chickens to the designated gated area where the twins had agreed would be a good spot. He watched her securely tie the gate so the chickens would not roam free.

Little by little… Were they growing up? Eli looked down at himself, garbed in old overalls smeared here and there with dirt and grass stains. Two seasons ago, he would never have thought himself out in the country, watering crops, owning farmland… For many around his age, it was a vision to be laughed at simply because it veered so much off the path Eli had intended for himself. Going to college, graduating, starting a career… Farmers only existed in children's story books or "out there" where children made elementary school field trips to marvel at barnyard animals. Yet here Eli was. Occupation: farmer. Were he and Aly wrong to make that whimsical decision to call?

Eli couldn't see the road he was walking on.

Lately at night, if sleep didn't claim him right away, he laid awake in the darkness with the crickets chirping out their repetitive melodies, mulling over such questions. The young man didn't think Aly was the kind of person to do the same thing, so he didn't think Aly would ever truly understand should he try and discuss matters with her. Besides, Aly was the one who had practically embraced the idea of living on a farm. She was a romantic. She didn't care what road she was walking on. That was the difference between them that set them apart like two sheer cliffs facing each other, towering over the vast ocean.

He shook himself out of these thoughts once Aly ventured near.

Eli passed the watering can over to his fellow farmer. "I'll go ahead and get myself washed up, then get started on the cookies. If I don't start on them soon, we might be late. I don't think Ben would like that."

Aly giggled nervously at the thought of their first day here. "Don't remind me. But okay, I'll finish up. You better make them just as tasty as last year."

Eli made a face at her as he began to head back to the house. "Don't I always?"

A quick shower and a fresh change of clothes later, the brown-haired man was ready to bake. He carefully preheated the oven and then gathered the necessary ingredients. Eli had always made chocolate cookies on Spring Thanksgiving to give out to his sister, female relatives, female friends, and a girlfriend if he had one at the time. His hands did everything for him. Mix the butter and sugar in a mixing bowl. Beat in the eggs one at a time. Carefully pour in the vanilla extract with a tablespoon. As Eli mechanically went through the process, he wondered what Spring Thanksgiving would be like here. He and Aly had missed celebrating New Year's Day with the village folk, what with being too busy moving in and getting themselves acquainted with their new home. Maybe that was a good thing though, as Eli couldn't imagine pounding rice with wooden hammers as a jovial celebration. It sounded physically taxing to him.

He inserted the pans into the oven and set the right temperature. As Eli waited and Aly began to freshen up, the strong sweet smell of chocolate wafted throughout the little house. He had to admit, if cooking was as good in the country as he had always thought, it was going to be difficult to keep from salivating all throughout lunch. Aly eyed the pan when he brought out the pans to cool on the wire rack. She hovered over the chocolate cookies like a butterfly over a flower in the summer.

"Okay, okay! Aly, go on, shoo!" Eli waved her away with a hand and protected his cookies from an early death. Dejected, the girl sulked away for the moment. One by one, he lifted each cookie off the pan with a spatula and carefully laid it in a glass plate until there were just a few left.

Seeing her pout made Eli roll his eyes. It was now or never. "Alright, alright, here. Happy Spring Thanksgiving." He presented her with the remaining cookies.

Aly wrapped her arms tightly around him and instantly changed her demeanor. "Ooh, big brother! I love you!" She planted a wet kiss smack on his cheek. Eli twisted himself out of her hold in repulsion and recoiled away.

"Oh god, EW!"

Nick pranced along the various oak tables decorated with red, white, and pink and piled high with that afternoon's lunch courses. In his hands he clasped his precious 3ES and felt quite intent on showing its contents to a certain red-haired girl.

"Roxy, Roxy, look!" It was rare to see Roxy not dressed in her chef uniform. Dressed in a white blouse and a dark red knee-length skirt, the fiery girl turned away from her task of setting the table at the sound of Nick calling her name.

"I made you chocolates," the gamer declared cheerfully. He presented the screen of the gaming device proudly to her and beamed.

"… You made chocolates in a game," she pointed out slowly.

"3D is way better than real life," Nick retorted stubbornly. "Aren't they beautiful?"

"No."

Heart shattered by her blunt response, Nick muttered darkly in a corner, "Girls never understand." Roxy ignored him as she always did. It was an everyday ritual that was now implemented into her life, sadly.

Ed called out from the other side of the room while sprinkling confectioner's sugar on his soft chocolates, bearing a ridiculously corny white tie with red hearts dotted all over it. "Give the guy a chance, will ya?"

"Ew."

"Ooh, dissed!" The black-haired man roared with laughter as Nick sunk further and further past the point of no return in his corner.

"Now, now, that's enough teasin', all of ya," Mitch stated. The large man sported a ruby red moustache and beard today, braided professionally into the shape of a heart. "That all I can get ya, Ben? Strawberry Milk?"

The young mayor sat perfectly on the bar stool with his elbows upon the bar, circling his drink of choice. "Yes, that will be all. Thank you, Mitch," Ben replied softly. He looked slightly uncomfortable in a light pink dress shirt and crimson tie. He tugged on his collar nervously. "I just don't think I should get today off… There is a lot of paperwork that needs to be done before the end of the season, and…"

The bearded man clapped a hairy hand onto Ben's shoulder firmly. "That's enough out of ya. Workin' yourself ta death ain't healthy. Ya need a day off! 'Sides, you're already here and everythin', might as well enjoy yourself." Ben nodded and quickly surrendered, not wanting to offend his old friend. When Nick and Ed were out of earshot, Mitch leaned in slightly and said quietly, "Miz Sophie said she might drop by later."

Ben coughed quietly and straightened himself, taking a deep drink to cover up the ever so slight red in his cheeks. Roxy had already finished setting up the tables at this point and nodded in their direction, also in on the little secret. Adjusting the frames of her glasses, she inquired quietly, "You did bring it, right?" She kept an eye out.

"Of course."

Their little discussion was cut short by the farmers' arrival. "Well, well, you're here a bit early," Ed grinned, shaking hands with Eli and giving a small bow to Aly, which made her chuckle. "What? I'm just trying to be a gentleman." The leathery man put a hand over his heart. "Now, if you'll just take a seat. Everybody should be here any minute now." He rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Oh, you brought cookies? Great, great! I'll go put them on the dessert table for you."

"Heh, I guess we are a little early," Eli sheepishly stated. Aly nudged him in the ribs and whispered loudly, "I told you!" Handing off the glass plate chock full of Eli's cookies, the two went to go grab seats.

Harriet and Matilda were next to arrive (with Travis invisibly in tow after he insisted on coming along), with the little girl wearing a dainty red bow in her hair. Harriet chose not to wear anything of the color red and clutched her purse tightly at the sight of Ed. The two females sat at a table furthest away from him as possible. The man sighed and nudged Eli in the rib, "I don't look dangerous or something, do I? I don't get why Matilda's mama always avoids me."

Nick shrugged nonchalantly. "Women sure are mysterious creatures."

When the clock struck twelve, Ben stood from his seat and raised his glass of strawberry cordial. He looked around the three tables and silently counted to himself. Eight people… Sophie wasn't here yet. Clearing his throat, he calmly called out, "Happy Spring Thanksgiving, everyone."

"Happy Spring Thanksgiving!" Every villager raised their glasses and wished each other happiness on this Spring day of love.

The mayor sat back down and took a sip of the fizzy fruit concocted drink. There was still plenty of time, he assured himself. And with that, he set the thought aside and started on the salad course along with Mitch and Roxy.

Lunch was a huge success. Crisp mimosa salad with cucumbers, cabbage, asparagus, and boiled eggs. A light stew with potatoes and that season's vegetables boiled in a hearty broth. Fizzy iced strawberry cordial! Surely, Mitch and Roxy's cooking skills were the pride of Kestrel.

Yet dessert was the main attraction. A chocolate party cake large enough for everyone to have second helpings, topped with whole strawberries and fresh white cream, captured the middle of the dessert table. Around it lined other delectable chocolate desserts: glistening chocolate bananas, a plate piled high with chocolate donuts, Eli's home baked chocolate cookies, a giant bowl of chocolate pudding, chocolate ice cream… A chocolate lover's heaven.

Travis invisibly floated nearby the desserts. He knew there was no need for him to eat. He couldn't even touch the food without going through it, whether he liked it or not. Yet, there was a longing deep inside him to be able to interact with the environment, with the villagers, and most of all, to show himself. It would be a foolish decision, however. He had already learned that years before he accidentally met Matilda. So he quietly observed how Matilda glared at her plate, wishing to avoid eating asparagus at all costs. She played with the skinny snake-like vegetables with the edge of her fork as Harriet disapprovingly stared. No matter that Matilda had a "high IQ", whatever that was. She was a smart girl, but she was still a kid.

"What? Y-You made all of this?" The twins gaped, gesturing towards the chocolate delights lining the table.

Ed popped his collar and thrust out his chest in pride. "Yup, all me!" Eli gave out a low whistle of admiration. "Mitch let me borrow part of his kitchen the other day so I could make it all. 'Twas long and hard, but hey, it's worth every minute if I can make people happy with my desserts."

"He's really good for a druggie," Nick commented. Ed twisted his head at the young man and flushed. "I am not a druggie," he hissed angrily, much to the farmers' laughter.

"U-Um… Sorry I'm late, everyone." A bark followed immediately after.

"Oh, Miz Sophie! You made it," Mitch cried. He lumbered over to give the dark-haired woman a big gentle hug. They were good friends, after all.

Sophie wore a creamy, snow-white blouse that accented her short, dark brown hair. Her modest pink skirt contrasted from her dark brown boots. Roxy inwardly groaned at the sight of the dog. "Damn, she brought Sandy along," the redhead grumbled, just loud enough for Ben to hear.

The large bearded man brought Sophie over to the table. "You're a bit late, Miz Sophie, but that's all fine. Let's get you fed. And Sandy too." The man quickly went into the kitchen to search for a beef bone for Sophie's companion. This left Sophie to sit to Ben's left, with Roxy at Ben's right.

"So, you brought Sandy too," the assistant chef smiled, initiating conversation straight away.

"Ah, yes… I th-thought Sandy might be lonely, so I decided to bring him with me. Uh, it is alright, isn't it?" Sophie inquired worriedly for a moment.

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine, it's fine. Don't worry about it. You know pets are allowed here."

"There's a good fella. Good boy." Mitch ruffled the dog's fur as the pet happily chewed on a large bone accompanied by a dish of water.

Ben watched in amusement as Ed brought out the radio. "Let's dance!" He turned up the volume loud to a jazz station.

Taking the opportunity to escape asparagus hell, Matilda bolted from her table. "Dance with me," she muttered so only Travis could hear amidst her mother's protests to finish her vegetables.

"Wh-What? … Well, if you insist, missie," Travis grinned, surprised by the girl's dance invitation. "You sure are one crazy Mollie."

"Be quiet, you."

His presence unknown to everyone except Matilda, the two children danced to the music, with only Sandy seemingly aware of the ghost's whereabouts. The adults cheered the little girl on playfully before Eli and Aly stumbled in, Aly leading. Despite that, Eli was already used to Aly's enthusiasm to jump into anything head on, and so the two danced, hands in the air, heads bobbing to the saxophone and the trumpet while the drums on the radio beat out a faster and faster rhythm. And soon Mitch and Roxy joined in, with the strangely bearded man moving his body in a simple pattern of bending his knees and swinging his arms while Roxy laughed in uproar in trying to keep up, her glasses askew on her face. Ed thrusted his pelvis in gusto while performing the sprinkler, while Nick simply danced however hard-core gamers danced. He was so off-rhythm that it was hard to tell if he was listening to the music at all, but he certainly received an "A" in effort.

Ben, Sophie, and Harriet ended up being the only two villagers not dancing. Harriet disapproved of such lively music, but out of politeness, she stayed where she was, watching Matilda like a hawk as an overprotective mother would. Harriet loved the village, yet she didn't quite understand the villagers' quirky behaviors at times. She sighed inwardly and wished for the peace and quiet of her home.

On the other hand, Sophie clapped her hands softly to the music and tapped her boot to the rhythm, but did not get up from her seat. With just about everyone engrossed in the dancing, Ben discreetly took his chance.

"Sophie? Do you have a moment?"

The dark-haired woman blinked and looked up to see the young mayor sitting beside her, a hand behind his back. It was a little hard to shake herself out of watching everyone dance, but she succeeded.

"Oh… Yes. W-What is it, Mayor Ben?" Sophie carefully pronounced.

"I… I wanted to give you this."Cursing himself for sounding so nervous in his head, the orange-haired man nonetheless brought out the present behind his back.

A small velvet bag tied with dainty white ribbon. The artist accepted Ben's offering and carefully untied it so that the contents of the present spilled out onto her hand.

The silver brooch brilliantly shone as if sparked by starlight. Obviously handcrafted, each rose petal was meticulously detailed. Sophie turned it over in her hands, marveling at the simple beauty.

"Oh! It's… so beautiful! Is this really for me?" The woman looked to Ben, immensely pleased. "Thank you so much, Mayor Ben." The mayor shifted a little in his seat as he watched Sophie pin the brooch to her blouse. "How does it look on me?"

"It looks r-really… nice," Ben answered softly, not daring to say anything more to ruin the moment.

Sophie smiled graciously. "I'll work even harder on my pieces to meet this year's tourism quota, like you said at the last town meeting, and help out the other farming villages too. Thank you for the reward."

A boulder plunged deep in his stomach. Ben flinched at the grave feeling of disappointment in his gut, although Sophie didn't see it.

"Oh." The silence that was supposed to settle in between them was overcome by a saxophone solo. "You're very welcome," Ben stated simply. Sophie did not reply, already engrossed once again in the villagers' enthusiastic dancing. And with that, the young man got to his feet and walked casually back to his table as if nothing special had just happened.

Taking a well-deserved break from rhythmically exerting himself, Mitch cast a sideways glance at the young man, but Ben said nothing. He straightened his tie and took a long drink of his strawberry cordial. Mitch laid a hand on Ben's shoulder sympathetically.

"At least Miz Sophie accepted it. She's wearin' it now, ya know."

"Yeah," Ben curtly uttered in quiet frustration, mentally kicking himself.

((A/N: I went for the French spelling of 'chocolate', which means there is supposed to be a missing letter 'e'. Say it with me now. Sho-co-la!))


	6. A Voluntary Prisoner

When the golden sun was already hanging high in the sky, Omelette the chicken snapped its beak towards a fleeing worm as her breakfast dived back into its hole for safety. While she and her feathered companion Scrambled Eggs had adjusted to their new life on this farm, it was unfortunately repetitive. Day in and day out, they were confined to the same wooden pen with the same rope used as a noose to keep the chickens fenced in. It was dull to have the same scenery before you each and every day. She sighed and nudged the gate with some effort as she did daily in hope the noose would slip and it would give way to her freedom.

And it did.

11111

Roxy adjusted her glasses and gave out a long, restrained exhale through her nostrils. Despicable. Just despicable. She gripped the handle of the feather duster and prodded the lump on the bed none too softly in the rib.

"Nick." When there was no answer, Roxy poked harder. "_Nick_. Wake up."

"Hnrghwha?" The young man rolled over onto his protruding stomach and blearily opened his beady eyes. With one arm, he groped to his right on the nightstand until his hand grasped the glasses he needed to see properly. Slipping them on took more effort. "What's goin' on?" He asked in a single slurred drawl.

"I need to clean. Get out." The young lady jabbed a thumb over to the open door. "It's one in the afternoon already. How long are you going to sleep?"

Nick smacked his lips together before letting out a drawn-out yawn that made Roxy grimace and back away from him defensively. "Call of Booty marathon last night. Was awesome…"

She snorted and rolled her eyes at him, putting her hands on her hips as she did so. "As expected from a loser like you, Nick," Roxy remarked. "Staying up watching your stupid cartoon porn."

"Actually, you are referring to 'hentai', but that was not what I was watching," Nick pointed out. Using a bit of momentum, he managed to roll his body right off the bed and land clumsily onto his bare feet. "It is about five beautiful women who are looking to find the right man to fall in love with. They just happen to have big boobs." He looked down upon himself to see that he had fallen asleep in his wrinkled t-shirt and jeans. "But why're you here? I thought you'd be in the woods by now with Mitch."

"I'm not because he wants to visit _Miz Sophie_ today alone." She made a face that made Nick shrug nonchalantly. "He wanted to talk to her about coming around more often or something."

Roxy was going to continue, but Nick held up a hand to silence her. Sniffing the air, his tone was curious with a hint of alarm attached to it. "Do you smell something burning?"

"Nooooo!" A heart-wrenching screech made the duo jump a few inches in the air. Roxy darted past the door with Nick at her heels, but she stopped almost immediately, causing Nick to stumble into her.

Ed limped out of his room, thin curls of black smoke flowing towards the ceiling like an upside-down river. He staggered a couple of feet before falling dramatically to his knees with a hard thud and clutching his fists in frustration.

"Failure," he bellowed to the heavens. "Complete, utter failure!" He shook his right fist towards the ceiling and rolled his eyes back. "Why is life so cruel to those bestowed with ingenious minds?"

He was answered with a feather duster to the face.

"ED!" Roxy roared. "You made a mess again, didn't you?" He cowered at Roxy's oncoming wrath, each stomp of her foot signaling that she was getting closer to suffocating him nice and slow.

"You look really pretty in that maid outfit today," he squeaked.

11111

"Yeeeeek!"

Aly flailed her hands and let go of the furiously flapping feathered creature she had managed to capture only moments before. Scrambled Eggs made it down to the ground and clucked her beak at the female human aggressively with her feathers stuck out this way and that.

She protested, "I can't do this!" Stomping her muddy boots in a tiny circle, Aly ended up facing the escaped chicken anyway. "Why do you keep flapping your stupid wings?" Again, she made a quick lunge and grabbed at it, only to grasp its legs. The chicken retaliated and cuffed Aly on the cheek with its wings. "Stop moving," she screamed, trying to keep the thing at arm's length while feathers barraged her endlessly and claws scratched desperately at her fingers.

Her brother stood there with his arms crossed. Inside, he was shaking with mirth, but he wiped whatever smile had crept onto his lips off of his face. "This is your fault, Aly. You didn't secure the gate. It's the only way."

Aly held on while the twins slowly made their way back to the farm after an exhausting trip around the village. "This still isn't fair!"

"One down, one to go," Eli called out to her, making the poor lass wail. "We haven't found Omelette yet!"

"… I see you're handling things well."

The twins stopped dead in their path upon seeing Ben pause mildly in his mid-afternoon stroll. He shifted the stack of documents he was holding and made a small nod towards the escaped bird. "You have poultry on the loose?"

Amidst the angry clucking and the sound of ruffling feathers, Aly carefully hid the chicken behind her back even though Ben had already made a mental note of it. "Two chickens," she uttered in the tiniest voice.

"Ah, then that shouldn't be much of an issue," Ben smiled icily. "Unless there are already some _poor_ villagers suffering from injuries caused by your chickens. After all, being pecked and scratched at most certainly would not make anyone's day, now would it?" The young mayor gave a slight chuckle at his unappreciated joke. "However, if you had any cows or sheep, I would imagine that you would have to pay for all the damage caused to private and public property, as well as footing the bill for any medical issues that spring up. All of that aside, the farm is going well, I would assume?"

"It's, uh, it's coming along," Eli blurted nervously. He shifted his weight to one foot and avoided Ben's piercing gaze.

"Splendid. I was actually going to drop by later to tell you that our Spring Community festival is tomorrow."

Scrambled Eggs pecked and vigorously flapped to be free, protesting her position with the loudest clucks she could muster.

"We compete with the four other villages in the area by having our local farmers present the best crops and animals of the season to be judged. It is a way for the villages to interact and mingle once every season, to promote a sort of unity, so to speak. Eric, the shipping man, should be at your house by six tonight to pick up whatever chicken you choose to be judged tomorrow. As you don't seem to have cows…" Ben trailed off for a few seconds before bringing his attention back to the subject. "You bring one of each crop you've grown to the community plaza yourself tomorrow morning, since vegetables are the freshest when picked at the last second. The festival starts at nine sharp, but I expect you would need to be there by eight to set up and get yourselves acquainted with the other farmers."

Ben paused to allow the noise of angry chicken to fill the tense atmosphere.

"If you head directly west and follow the path for an hour, you'll happen across the lake. The plaza's right next to it."

It was here when Ben looked at the two newbie farmers with eyes that screamed for them to do him an impossible favor. "Can I count on you to make Kestrel proud?"

The twins glanced at each other uneasily at such an expectation. Nevertheless, Eli turned from his sister and nodded solemnly.

"You bet you can."

11111

Mitch looked like an elephant trying to sit on a glass of water. Despite the absurdity, he occupied the only other available chair in Sophie's house, and he was not going to sit on a floor that was riddled with wood chips and flecks of paint.

Gratefully, he accepted the cup of lemonade. "Thank ya, lass. I don't suppose there's a chance a bigger chair could be made, could ya?"

The wood whittler smiled faintly, tracing the rim of her own glass thoughtfully with a finger. "I do not think so… Even if I did, you would have to sit outside if you wanted to be in it. It would be much too big to fit inside."

"Well now," Mitch chortled, "Never hurts to ask." He changed the subject soon enough. "You not comin' down to the festival tomorrow? Grand interestin' sight to see, with them twins in their first competition."

"Mm, no, I think not." Sophie took a small sip of her lemonade. "There's… lots of people around, and…" She shrugged, despite Mitch's urging to continue. "I can't bring Sandy with me, so Sandy would be lonely. Wouldn't you, Sandy?" Peering up at her from her feet, the canine gave out a single soft bark in agreement.

"That's right, dogs aren't allowed, since they'd be scarin' the animals and all," Mitch complied. "But still, Miz Sophie, we haven't seen ya around since Spring Thanksgivin'. T'would be nice if you'd, uh, come aroun' more often." He looked around at the tiny wooden cabin. "Fresh air does good. And ya gotta be tired of only havin' me for Sunday company, no?"

Sophie wordlessly heaved her shoulders while Mitch took a drink.

"But, I mean…"

The broad-chested man glanced at her as Sophie began to speak.

"People are not very nice there. They… They always look at me, and…" She clutched her glass in her hands, the memory of attending the last Community festival fresh in her mind. "They do not understand… They always ask me so many questions and stare at me when I… when I talk to them. If they don't talk to me, then they avoid me and talk about me when I am not there."

Mitch's gaze softened. He knew all too well how Sophie felt cornered the more people talked to her, like a little bird in the company of street cats. How they regarded her as not being normal. And whatever is not normal, you become wary of.

"They do not think I am one of them because of the way I talk." Sophie stiffened her back in her chair and frowned into her drink. "They pity me. They try to console me when there is nothing wrong… They tell me they feel sorry for me, and look at me like I am some two-legged dog!

Even their _children_ make fun of me."

He parted his lips to speak, but there were no words that could be said.

"You just speak differently because you have an accent, Mitch. People may not understand sometimes, but they still see you as Mitch, you know?" Sophie struggled to say words at a faster pace, growing frustrated at having to carefully pronounce every syllable. "They don't see me as Sophie. They don't… They _never_ see me as Sophie." She glared at him defiantly with misty eyes, daring him to challenge her, daring him to tell her that she was wrong.

What do you say to a two-legged dog too frightened to venture out of its cage?


End file.
